Blood Ties

Chapter 5 -Misleading Redemption-

Slade Wilson stood in the concrete garage, the white lights on and his helmet tucked under an arm. He looked down at the apprentice in front of him, the boy looking up confusedly at the words Slade had said moments before.

"Not coming? Why?"

"There's a meeting I must attend, The Light requested me specifically and I suspect they've had meetings without me. So I'm going and if Sportsmaster is there, I'll deal with him." Slade said. The young mercenary looked down nervously, resisting the urge to tug at his gloves, a tic he was working on getting rid of.

"What if..."

"If Batman intervenes you get out of there. Salvage the mission if you can, but if it compromises yourself then leave." Slade turned and donned his mask, walking over to his parked motorcycle. "It's no different from any other drug deal you've overseen by yourself before. Plans change, adapt or be left behind."

He heard Renegade sigh, then the scuffle of Kevlar on metal as his apprentice slid off the metal desk he'd been sitting on. "Alright... but now it's going to be boring."

"It's only boring if you make it boring." Deathstroke grabbed the handlebars of his cycle and pushed back the kickstand with his boot. "And please refrain from killing anyone without reason."

Renegades smirk grew. "Pfft reason? What's that? I thought we were murderers."

"Renegade." Deathstroke narrowed his eye and forced his apprentice to keep his steel gaze.

The young mercenary rose his hands in surrender, backing away into the hallway as he spoke. "I know, I know, I was being sarcastic."

Deathstroke refrained from sighing, Renegade was so fickle at times. "There is a time for sarcasm and a time for solemnity, I suggest you work on knowing when that is."

"Yes sir!" Renegade mock saluted and turned to disappear down the hallway. Deathstroke watched for a second longer before lifting a leg over the motorcycle and revving his engine.

Deathstroke pealed out of the garage, going down a long corridor of concrete before an incline gave way to a parking lot. The lot was empty, as it usually was, considering the building and it's parking spaces had been abandoned for a few years now. But the foundations were solid and the road had yet to wear with weathering, the bunker itself was underground, under the shopping center with no real connections between the two buildings besides the garage.

The light of the dying sun bathed the world in a burnt color, dusk setting with a surreal feeling.

Deathstroke's mind was busy, filled with thoughts of his apprentice.

Deathstroke had seen the boy once before their first face-to-face meeting. Over four years ago, he had seen the boy running in the grimy allies of Gotham. Fleeing three men in grubby clothing, no doubt part of the homeless of Gotham, and part of the creeps.

The ebony haired kid was out of breath and stumbled a few times in his bare feet, Deathstroke had deduced he had been running for awhile. Then the boy slipped and fell, landing on the wet cobblestone ground with a grunt and a grimace. The three men surrounded him, each wearing a perverted grin and the boys crystal blue eyes widened as he got up to press himself against the wall.

Clearly the boy was in trouble, this had no meaning to Slade at the time, so he had turned away, returning to his work.

He ignored the boys warbled cries and the laughter of the three men, it was only when a third party entered when the mercenary's attention was returned to the scene.